


Self depreciation - a fanfic

by Groadr



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Break Up, Creampie, Drunk Sex, Emotionally Repressed, Gay Bar, Gay Sex, I'm Sorry, M/M, Oral Sex, Post-Canon, Sad Ending, Unrequited Love, What Have I Done
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-23
Updated: 2018-01-23
Packaged: 2019-03-08 10:13:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13456095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Groadr/pseuds/Groadr
Summary: You know you're fucked up, you don't want to put anyone else in the middle of your own mess, but it's easier said than done. When the chance shows up and you're so desperate for it, what will you do? As long as you're the only one getting harmed for your own actions guess you don't have to explain anything to anyone.





	Self depreciation - a fanfic

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea why I even started this, neither why it became 13 pages long, but here it goes. I'm not responsible for the feels.

You should probably feel bad about this, but you still cannot help it. Since the game ended a couple years ago you didn't manage to get in a relationship again. Which is probably a good thing, you don't want to ruin your relationship with someone else again.

Yet you couldn't avoid what was to come, what your stupid heart suddenly decided to wish for.

Things didn't start out all of a sudden. Thinking about it now you guess your feelings for him began developing little by little not much after Dave started to date him, which just makes your guilt grow even more.

The worst is actually because you can't help but think you just fell for him because he's so similar to Jake. Well, they are related somehow if you think about it. There's that whole ectobiology bullshit involved.

And now there you are, sitting in your room, jerking off to the sound of them fucking in Dave's room.

How envious you feel with your fingers up your ass, wish you were the one moaning “John, John, John” over and over until your voice is gone. How fucked up is it to stealthily masturbate to your brother and his boyfriend having sex and wishing so badly it was you in your bro’s place? You thought you couldn't ever be any worse and now there you are. Good job, Dirk. You really deserve to own the prize of most fucked up man in the entire multiverse.

To be quite honest with yourself, there is one single thing that makes you feel like the absolute worst shit that ever existed: how you can't help but feel like you stand a chance whenever you hear them fight, how some part of your messed up heart feels happy whenever you listen to them saying they should probably take a break.

That never lasts though, they get back to good terms usually in the same day. And then comes that wave of conflicted feelings, because you're happy for your bro, and sad because you won't ever be able to be John's significant other like that.

Both of you do get along well though, you did hang out with John a few times, and you've known each other for long enough now to develop a healthy pranking habit towards each other.

John is a man hard to describe. He is really handsome, muscular, has that tiny bit of hipster aura that you have no idea where comes from. And although he's a very simple man when it comes to his habits he's still so unique. He emanates that aura of a free spirit, which makes sense for a Heir of Breath. He is amazing and you're just a fucked up man with anime shades.

Doesn't help that you stumbled on a naked John more than once. That's what you get for living in the same place as your brother.

Then there was that fateful day. You don't know what happened exactly because you arrived by the end of their argument, and neither of them wanted to talk about it later. All you know is that they broke up.

You thought it was going to be just like before, in a blink of an eye John would be there with Dave again and they would probably go for some reconciliation make outs. But then the first 24 hours came and there was still no signal of John. Then it became 48 hours. Then three days. And so on.

There were no calls, no messages, not a single word between both of them. Dave would just remain silent about it. Whenever you mentioned John's name he would click his tongue and mutter something before changing the topic.

You also didn't get any messages from Egbert. He wouldn't even appear online on pesterchum since the break up. You know for a fact that he had been talking to Karkat though, but seems like not even to the troll John mentioned the reason for their break up.

Like the wind comes and goes John suddenly vanished from everyone's lives without any clue to his whereabouts.

It has been two weeks already since the break up when you decided to go have some drinks at a gay bar you like. The place is far from home but totally worth it.

As always you took your usual seat at the bar, a comfortable bench right by the middle of the counter under the colorful display of beverages and led lights. The ambient is very comfortable and more than once you managed to hook up with someone there by the end of the night. Helps a lot that the owner of the place will lend you a room upstairs for a pretty friendly price if you ask.

You were ordering a second drink already when the man crumbled by the counter a couple seats from yours shows any signal of life. That's not a common sight but you guess sometimes it happens for someone to just give in to booze.

When you hear his voice ordering for another drink though you freeze in place, orange eyes darting at him in disbelief.

Still takes a couple seconds for you to actually get off your bench to approach him. His chin is resting on top of his left arm on the counter, right hand holding the recently replenished cup. He's wearing a dark blue jacket and tight dark jeans. His black hair is a mess. His glasses folded a few inches from the left elbow.

 _“John?”_ You murmur upon touching his shoulder, not wanting to startle him.

He doesn't answer right away, actually takes a couple seconds for him to do anything at all.

When he lifts his head the first thing you notice are his red scleras and the dark circles under his eyes. Next thing that's impossible for you not to notice is his scruffy beard, he probably didn't shave in a couple days. You've never seen someone looking just as exhausted and given up in life like that.

 _“Strider…”_ He slowly mumbles, his tongue sluggish because of the alcohol, voice husky. _“What do you want?”_

 _“John, you disappeared!”_ You sit by his side, his appearance as a whole still shocking to you. _“No one knew where you were, and you wouldn't even reply my messages.”_

_“I didn't want to talk to you. Or anyone at all.”_

_“Why?”_

He doesn't answer right away, just looks back at his cup and takes another gulp of his drink before saying anything. _“Why do you care?”_

 _“Because…”_ You actually don't know. Is it just because you're interested in him? Is it because you were ‘friends’? At least one of those you can say. _“We are friends, right? How am I supposed to not care about you and your whereabouts?”_

_“Your brother also used to be my friend, and he didn't even try to find me after our break up.”_

_“I'm not my brother, John. For one thing, I'd never break up with you if I was him.”_

_“You don't know that.”_ He shrugs and takes another sip of his beverage.

 _“Maybe I don't, but I'd never let you get to this point after a break up!”_ You run your fingers through his hair, pulling his locks away from his face. That's when he finally looks properly at you, those blue eyes just as intense as you remember. _“Look at you, John… Still such a handsome man, giving in to booze.”_

His gaze is on yours and you can feel your heart skipping a beat from that. Your jaw trembles, fingers sliding to his cheek, you really wish you were wearing your shades right now.

He doesn't move when you lean closer to him, maybe too drunk to notice what you were doing at first.

When your lips meet his there's a wave of feelings flooding your heart at once. Regret and happiness hitting you harder in the guts than any other emotion. He tastes like alcohol, his beard is uncomfortable, but his lips are still wet and soft like you've always imagined. And that's everything you've been wishing for so long.

When you break the contact there were a couple tense seconds. You expected for him to push you away, maybe even punch your face, but he doesn't. John just laughs, and your heart melts at the sight of that childish bucktoothed smile of his.

 _“Dude, that was gay.”_ And he fucking snorts. You can't believe you made a man drunk over a break up laugh just by giving him a kiss.

 _“John, I_ am _gay. You are gay. Even this bar is gay.”_

 _“I'm not gay, I'm bi. But you know, you were right about something. You aren't Dave.”_ And that's when his laughter ceases and you think you may have fucked up, because his smile disappeared again. _“But I'm fine with that.”_

That's when the part you weren't expecting at all comes. His hand is on the back of your neck, fingers cold because he was holding his drink before so you flinch a little under his touch. He pulls you closer, eyes half-lidded, and then you can feel his lips on yours again, pressing deeply into a kiss.

You don't resist, far from it, you open yourself for him, allow John to take your lips as if they belong to him. As if you as a whole were his.

Your arms rest on top of his shoulders as you kiss him back, his tongue on yours as you tilt your head to allow him to deepen the kiss. You can taste the alcohol in his breath, it inebriates your senses. You could probably get drunk just from kissing him.

And then his free hand reaches for your jeans’ back pocket, his palm getting a nice hold of your butt cheek when he pulls your hips to his leg, forcing you to buck forward and grind your crotch against his knee.

A shiver travels up your spine and you struggle to suppress a moan, making you have to break the kiss.

 _“John…!”_ You breathe against his mouth with a hint of censoring. You hope he can't see how flushed your face is. _“Not here…”_

He doesn't seem to care, his grip still tight on your body. He licks the thin string of saliva that dripped from your lips when the kiss was parted, his bright blue eyes gazing at yours.

 _“Then where?”_ He whispers against your mouth, his hot breath making you tremble. You need a moment to form your words because your forming erection is starting to get too distracting.

 _“Upstairs.”_ You almost moan again when he nibbles on your lower lip, pushing him lightly by the shoulders. _“There's a room, I'll go ask for the key. You pay the drinks, I pay for the room.”_

_“Deal. I'll wait here.”_

With one last peck on John's lips you literally run to find the manager. Thinking back at that moment you probably looked like a teen who's getting laid for the first time ever and can barely wait for it, and you kind of feel like that honestly. You're about to fuck with your brother's ex-boyfriend at a gay bar's “secret” room after he basically went missing for two weeks. No pressure. You've just been wanting to fuck with him for so damn long that's no big deal.

When you're back to the bar John promptly gets up and strolls towards you.

Your face still feels warm but you aren't blushing that much anymore, somehow managed to get your feelings fairly under control again.

You guide John to a door behind the counter and through a couple corridors until the stairs to the seconds floor. That's the point where you feel like John's switch just flipped somehow because he presses your body against a wall, his lips going for yours again. He's like a hungry beast ready to devour you.

 _“I can't wait anymore, let me have you.”_ He whispers and you've never heard him like that before. His voice is pure lust, his hips pressing on yours, the bulge in his pants grinding hard against your own.

 _“Come on John, behave just a little more. We'll be kicked out of here if we fuck on the stairs!”_ You push him against your own will, trying not to whine when he slowly bucks his hips forward and lift your body a little with that. _“It's the first room upstairs, we're almost there! Then you can have me all you want, until you think it's enough!”_

He just growls as a reply, his hands reaching for your thighs and holding firmly on them when he easily lifts you off the floor. That feels amazing, just how much his build is different from yours.

Your legs are embracing his waist, your arms holding around his shoulders, lips seem to be just magnetically attracted to his because they barely stay apart.

He carries you all the way to the second floor and you struggle a bit to unlock the door while John just won't let you focus on it. Lucky thing you're particularly good with your hands.

Once in the room John kicks the door shut before he goes to the bed, laying your back on the mattress as he leans over you.

Your lips finally part from his when you're both comfortably settled on top of the sheets, your breath unsteady, his not that much.

John barely gives you any second to recover as his hands go straight to your shirt, almost ripping it when he pulls it off. Then he goes for your pants and in a blink of the eye you're laying completely naked in front of him.

That's when he stands on his knees right between your legs, stares you dead in the eye, blue eyes like a predator when he licks his own lips. You really hope he didn't notice how your cock twitched just from this because that was very shameful.

You don't want to think of anything right now, about how you're feeling like a teenager having sex for the first time, or how your hormones and feelings are a mess mashed together at that exact moment, or how terrible you feel that you're so damn ready to be fucked _hard_ by your bro’s ex boyfriend and moan his name until your voice is gone.

Your chest suddenly start to feel too tight, as if your ribs were squeezing your lungs. Guilt. You really wish you had your shades on. Your heartbeats rumbling in your ears like earthquakes, your heart burns. You're the worst, taking advantage of John while he's drunk. Not that different from all your other one night stands but this time it's not the same either. John was your brother's boyfriend, you two are close friends. Or at least were, you aren't even sure anymore. You understand it would've been hard for him to talk to you after the break up but you still feel betrayed.

Yet you reach for him, holding tight on his jacket so you can pull his lips to yours, biting softly on the lower one before you kiss him.

Needless to say it's all a mess, lots of saliva being exchanged as your tongues meet each other's and you breathe in his mouth as he does the same in yours. The taste of alcohol remains but if you focus a little harder you're pretty sure you can find out just what exactly he tastes like.

You feel hot, dirty, like someone who's committing the worst sin ever, and yet you can't stop.

Halfway through the kiss things start to feel like nothing of that is enough for you anymore. For fuck's sake he is still completely dressed, you have to fix that.

John seems to follow your thoughts and sticks his arms behind so you can pull his jacket off in one single flowed motion. Good, one less, three more to go.

You take a moment to run your hands over his chest before rolling around on the bed. If he was the predator before and you were his prey you just switched things around.

There you are, naked, sitting on top of John's covered hard cock as your fingers skillfully work on the buttons of his shirt. One by one you open them until you can touch his chest directly, your cock doing another one of those shameful twitches when you imagine yourself riding him. In a few seconds it will probably stop being just your imagination and become real.

You rock your hips on top of him and he hisses once his volume settles between your butt cheeks, he feels so damn hard you can barely wait for it.

You roll your hips a couple more times before you retreat on all fours, your hands reaching for the waistband of his pants. Alright Dirk, time to look sexy, you can do it.

You lean towards his abdomen, lips kissing on his skin as your fingers undo his pants, dragging it down as soon as it's unzipped.

Once his pants are down enough his cock jumps up, standing right in front of your face. Damn, you want to suck on it so hard, have him spill inside your mouth, your ass, all over your body and face. This time you almost moan when your dick reacts to your so messed up thoughts. Shameful. Dirty. Corrupted. That's how you feel alongside the sheer amount of untamed desire.

Your orange eyes dart upwards and meet his, staring at you. You feel like you're being judged, like he's either questioning why you just stopped or how you can be such a slut. Your brain insists that it's the second one, putting your thoughts on yourself down like always, making you feel like the piece of garbage you are.

Don't think about it, he's right there, laying in front of you. John wouldn't just stay there if he was disgusted by you. Or… Maybe he's just still there because he's drunk. No, don't, he would still push you away if he wasn't fine with this, you know that, John is tougher than that.

Time to take a deep breath, cleanse your mind. Just think about not ruining it, your breaks to have bad thoughts have been more than enough.

Once you're feeling a little better you wrap your fingers around his shaft and holy shit you can barely hold it with one single hand. Good thing you always keep some lube with you because that thing wouldn't go in at all bareback, no matter how used you are to it. You doubt even your toys are that huge. Just how damn lucky your bro was, now you know why he moaned so fucking loud.

You exhale against his tip and can see how he twitches lightly from the feeling of it. Then you lean lower, your tongue tracing from his balls all the way up, following the slight curve of his erection.

Great, he can't look away from you now, his eyes drowned in lust, his whole body emanates desire. Time to give him a small show.

Your fingers run through your hair for a second so you can fix your looks, then you glance down at that monster of a cock again. A shiver runs up your spine and you almost tremble with it, bringing your lips closer to his dick.

He was about to say a thing, his lips parted probably to say that you don't have to force yourself to do it because even drunk John is still a blessing to that goddamn universe. But you don't give him the time to do so, which is kind of ironic because time is your brother's thing. Now you have that absurd girth of John's in your mouth, being extra careful to not scrape your teeth on him no matter how impossible it feels. And he moans, hisses almost like a big feline, fingers like claws curling and grasping on the sheets.

You huff, your jaw hurts because of the extreme angle but you're not willing to give up. You count down, holding his shaft by the base and taking a deep breath through the nose before you push it further.

A soft whine escapes when his tip pokes your throat, still so much to go in and you can barely take it already.

You take another second to breathe while you still can and then go down on him as much as you can at once. John moans at that, a curse escaping his lips, his legs tensing up.

You stand still for a couple seconds before your eyes start tearing up, moving your head back so he slides almost all the way out of your mouth.

 _“Holy fucking Christ, Strider…!”_ He groans, his cock twitches between your lips.

And he can't stop looking at you, the show barely started. The corners of your lips lift in a small smile as you recover your breath, getting ready for an actual blowjob now that you know how he's going to feel like in your throat.

Your tongue traces his length once more, giving his tip some special attention before you tentatively suck on it.

He likes it, biting on his lower lip as a needy moan leaves his throat. He's so damn hot you can barely wait to keep going.

You part from him for a couple seconds just so you can get a sachet of lube from your pants’ pocket. You coat your left fingers with it before leaning towards John's cock again, take it in your mouth once more.

John's lips part in a moan when you take half his dick between your lips and start working your tongue on it. Your ass is up in the air, high enough so he can see when you reach it with your right hand and push your fingers inside, a sweet muffled moan sound against his cock.

You easily set a rhythm to your fingering and the bobbing of your head, pleasing both yourself and him at the same time. Soon enough his fingers are on your hair, pulling it lightly when you suck him harder or your tongue runs on his tip. His deep moans are more than a pleasure to hear, they're like a praise, signal that you're doing such an amazing job.

And in no time he's leaking pre cum straight to your throat, your ass tightening around your fingers because that excites you so much.

“Fucked up.” your brain insists but you don't want to listen, you're too busy now trying to make John come in your mouth. You want a good taste of his cum. You need it. And not much later he gives it to you.

It happens right when you have his whole length deep in your throat. He doesn't warn you, just hisses loudly as his fingers pull harder on your hair. He doesn't push you any further but keeps your head in place for the first moments, his hot semen spilling in the depths of your throat and you couldn't love it more. It's a thick, huge load, forcing you to pull back and cough several times as soon as his hold loosens.

A bit of it still splatters on your face while you try to recover your breath. Your head feels light, slightly dizzy.

While John's refractory period lasts you keep on spreading yourself for him, after all the show must go on, and the more you manage to loosen yourself to that huge cock of his the better.

He eventually sits down, properly removes his shirt and then his hands are resting on your thighs, lips reaching for your neck. His beard stings but his kisses and nibbles still feel amazing, your moans sound like a song only for him.

His thumbs draws small circles on your skin as his hands slowly travel to your hips, and then to your ass. He pulls you closer, fits your hips to his and then you can feel his middle fingers by each side of your asshole, pulling it open slightly.

You mewl his name, your free hand resting on his shoulder as you tremble against him. You want to fuck so badly, been weeks since you last had sex with someone.

Like a signal for you to get going to the good stuff after a bit of time you can feel his cock poking under your balls, getting back up for more fun. He pushes you down, grinding between your legs.

John's eager. So are you even if you may not show it. He doesn't seem to mind though. You take your fingers out of your ass with a sigh, placing your other hand on his chest to push him back a little.

Next you're coating his cock with a generous amount of lube, massaging the thing while your thoughts go wild about how you're going to be deliciously wrecked by that.

When he seems ready you force him to lay on the mattress again, eyes on his, barely even blinking. You hold his dick in place as you settle your body on top of it, feel his tip poking your entrance.

A shiver runs up your spine as you just stand there on your knees. Your throat feels sore and dry. Your fingers trembling slightly around his shaft. You take a long, deep breath and close your eyes, and then you finally let your body down until his tip goes in.

You're biting on your lower lip so you can't scream, nothing ever felt like that before, nothing ever stretched your ass that much in your entire life. And although it does hurt a bit it also feels amazing.

You struggle to not let your weight down at once as your legs tremble by each side of John's body.  You clench your teeth, back arched, free hand seeking balance on his stomach as you slowly let your ass down, his dick digging further inside you.

You feel breathless, a desperate moan leaving your parted lips once he's halfway inside. It feels like it's never going to end, like it's impossible to take his whole dick.

And yet you're not willing to give up. Your gaze is from a determined man when you let go of his cock to place both hands on his chest. He looks back at you, heart beating so hard under your palms. And his eyes… Merciful, like he's asking for you to be careful, to not push yourself so hard.

Slowly you let your weight help out with the penetration, the seconds seem endless, but when you expect it the least you're sitting on his lap, skin against skin.

You could crumble on top of John at that very moment and it takes a lot of self control to not do so. He's all in, filling your insides to the brim. Every single inch of his dick is stretching your body. You can feel it deep inside, twitching against your inner walls as you tighten around him.

You take some time to start moving, hissing loud once you lift your hips. Half of his dick slides out before you stop and lean on top of him, your fingers like claws on his shoulders, lips parted as you seek for oxygen.

Just a little more. Your legs tremble when you manage to lift your hips a bit higher, his tip grinding against the wall to your prostate. You can barely handle it, once more all your self control goes to keep up the strength on your legs and not fall down on him at once. That's when his right hand reaches for your cheek, thumb gently cleaning the cum he spilled there before.

It's hard to handle the look in his eyes. Why must be gaze at you with that much care? You don't want to get attached, you know that's just another one night stand. That's just to fulfill your fantasies of fucking the man that once was your bro’s boyfriend, anything more than that will hardly happen after it's over. Besides, a Heir and a Prince were never meant to be together, you'd just be fooling yourself for having any kind of hope. Who would want to be in a relationship with someone that destroys hearts after all?

And yet you can't control the beats of your own heart, the way it accelerates when John gently cups your face after you lick his fingers clean and pulls you for a sweet kiss. You could cry, you know that, but you still seem physically unable of doing so no matter how much your chest is aching right now.

You kiss him back, just as slowly as he takes you, giving yourself room to breathe and moan when you sit back down on his cock. The pressure of his tip against your prostate makes a shiver run through your whole body, enough for even your hands to tremble.

When you're settled back on his lap with his whole length inside your body you wiggle your hips lightly, taking your time before you move again.

Once you finally gather enough energy to lift your body a second time, sweat starts to run down your temples. And then you allow yourself to drop on his lap a bit harder, a loud moan forcibly leaving your throat, the sound of skin hitting skin echoing in your ears.

You end up forcing yourself to break the contact between your lips and his once you start to settle a rhythm to your movements, it's too hard to breathe while kissing, but you still struggle to give up on it.

Eventually the pain ceases and there's only pleasure left so you can properly sit on top of him, your whole body exposed to John under the dim light. His fingers then start massaging on both your butt cheeks, keeping them apart with a tight grasp.

That doesn't last too long though as one of his hands reach for your cock right after, and that's when you end up slightly overwhelmed, pre cum leaking from your tip and dripping on his fingers as he pumps his hand up and down.

You almost melt on top of him, leaning back, legs parting even more, dick pulsing against his palm. From that angle he can probably see his cock going in and out of you, wrecking your ass. You're thankful for the existence of lube because without it having sex with John would be impossible.

You don't care that anyone at the bar downstairs can probably hear your loud moans or that people on the corridor outside can listen to the bed creaking. You just want to worry about the fact that you're having amazing sex with John, that his fingers are holding tight on your cock and his dick is digging deep in your body.

And then he calls you. Not “Strider”, not “man”, or “dude”, or anything like that. He calls your name, his voice deep even if his tongue is still a bit sluggish, and it feels like electricity going through your veins. He sounds like a man in pure bliss and you couldn't be more proud of yourself for that, even if guilt still stings in the depths of your mind.

 _“John.”_ You moan back at him and love how it feels to call for his name in that situation.

Still that's no good, you shouldn't get attached but you can't help it anymore. Your heart is beating for him, you are in love, and it hurts. And yet you can't let him know. John is too good, you can't get him trapped in your complicated feelings. You aren't allowing this to happen with anyone else, specially him, so you have to endure it quietly, never say a word about this.

And you just can't stop going up and down on him, your lips never closing between the moans and hard breathes. You can't recall moaning this much before if you stop to think about it. No one ever gave you such a hard time with a simple penetration too if that serves as reason.

By the time you reach your limit your whole body is drenched with sweat, a few droplets falling on John's own wet torso. Then you let him sink inside you one last time, as deep as you can take him, your teeth clenched just for a moment before you give in to a loud moan forming his name.

Everything turns bright and white for a few seconds, your cock pulsing as you come and your semen spills on John's body, your hips moving in small circles on top of him. That feels amazing, fulfilling. You're just so wrecked.

But John isn’t done just yet, he just waits for you to recover before pushing you to the mattress. You don’t mind, you want him to come again, this time inside your ass. Not to mention he’s been amazing, even if you just came you want to feel more of that cock of his, doesn’t matter that he’s not going to last much longer.

He rests one of your legs on his own shoulder while the other remains between his, your whole body at his mercy. You’re well aware you’re such a pretty view from the place he’s standing so even if it’s a bit uncomfortable in that position you just stay half turned to him.

When he goes back to moving his pace is fast, strong, shoving his dick balls deep inside. You get back to moaning, your body arching, fingers clawing on the sheets wet with sweat.

 _“John…”_ it leaves your lips like a whisper, desire flowing from each letter. _“Come inside me.”_

He nods, blue eyes intense as he drops your leg and places his hands by each side of your head right after he rearranges your body, turning yourself so you're facing him completely. Then he moves his hips, repositions until it feels good enough for his last thrusts and keeps on fucking you hard. You wrap your legs around him for good measure but John knows exactly what he's doing, your hips barely moving from that position.

You were in the middle of a kiss when he reached his limit, sinking in your body as deep as he could, his thrust so hard it hurts when his hips hit yours. He groans against your lips, keeping up with a few softer movements as he spills inside your body. You just remain there, quiet, a small sigh of satisfaction leaving your lips. You fail so miserably to show just how much you loved it you could actually kick your own sore ass for this.

John eventually stops completely, lets your body rest on the mattress so he can slide out. You feel empty once he's gone, which is not a surprise taking how much he had spread you open. His cum doesn’t take long to start dripping out of your body, just how great it feels.

And he won't stop kissing you. Your lips, face, the curve of your neck. All of that feels amazing, your fingers lost in his locks.

 _“Are you alright? Was it enough for you?”_ he questions, his voice of a tired man, his eyes half lidded.

 _“I'd indeed appreciate another go but I'm afraid my body can't really take it. You seriously wrecked my lower half, John.”_ He looks confused about just how your expression is blank when you say those words, and that's somewhat endearing.

He mumbles an apology to which you don't really pay attention because it wasn't necessary. You wanted to be wrecked, you wanted to be done hard by John and he just gave what you wanted.

You'll never tell him though. Instead you pull him to a slow kiss, have one last taste of his lips before it all fades. And from then to the next morning you can't remember much, you probably fell asleep with him taking how exhausted you both were.

Next morning you're the first to wake up. Your head hurts, and so does your ass. That's pretty expected though, not a surprise at all, you were pretty rough with yourself last night.

John is still dead asleep by your side. You wish you could contemplate such a charming man for longer but you better get moving soon. You don't have the guts to face him after all that, you have to admit.

As quiet as the pain in your ass allows you get on your feet and start to stealthily seek for your clothes so you can get properly dressed. The only thing you do before leaving the room is write him a note with instructions about what to do with the keys and where the exit is. You still consider signing your name in the end, maybe write down your initials, but you don't. Just leave the keys and note on the nightstand beside his cellphone before you abscond. You're such a coward.

Later the next day you receive a message from John on pesterchum. He apologizes for going missing for so long, explains that it was too hard for him to talk to you for being Dave’s brother even if you two are friends. Yet he doesn't mention a thing about having sex with you last night. When you press him about his whereabouts he do mentions the room at the bar but says that he doesn't recall what he was doing there, or even how he ended up in that room.

It hurts, every single word feels like a punch straight to your stomach. He just forgot it. You wish you could do the same but your sore ass is still a painful reminder.

And yet you accept going out with him later that day, where you just talk about casual things like good old friends before parting ways for the day. His beard is gone but there isn't much he can do about his eyes, still displaying dark circles but not red anymore.

John doesn't mention a thing about your unsteady footsteps. Well, he _knows_ you're gay and isn't the kind of guy who is going to ask around about your nights.

In less than a week Dave and John are back together, and once more your apartment feels so filled with life. Yet it's painful, you're back to being just the weirdo with a crush on your brother's boyfriend. Because no, it wasn't enough just fucking John once. Maybe it was even worse than never having done anything at all. Now you had a taste of him, and you know you're never getting another chance. Your love for him just won't cease growing and making your ribcage feel too tight around your heart. Your fucked up heart.

For another long night you're sitting on your bed, listening to them banging in Dave's room. Just you, your corrupted love for John, and a large cup filled up with self depreciation.

**Author's Note:**

> Well, congratulations to anyone who made it this far, and once more I'm sorry about this piece of... Whatever this is... It's the first time I actually finish a fic that has a somewhat sad ending and I have no idea where this came from.  
> My apologies for any typos or some weird looking formatting, English isn't my first language.


End file.
